


born from resistance [can't keep me tied down]

by solacier



Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders
Genre: Demigod AU, Gen, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Greek and Roman Mythology - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-04 23:52:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12178935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solacier/pseuds/solacier
Summary: The world is ruled in secrecy, upheld to modern values but always being pulled at the strings. Gods and Goddesses rule behind broken veils, their crowns crippling under the loss of power.In their wake lies a Camp, holding their legacy strong. But the Gods are only as strong as they are believed to be.And, just for the record, Virgil thinks it's a bunch of bullshit.[A Sanders Sides Demigod AU]





	born from resistance [can't keep me tied down]

**Author's Note:**

> FYI, I have no idea what I'm doing. Oh well.

“Virgil remembered the nights when he was a kid, begging for someone to whisk him away from the constant judging. He could remember the shrieking and the crying, hoping that one day it would change.

It never did. ”

Sanders Sides Demigod AU

 

Virgil wasn’t normal.

That much, he definitely knew. Because as he walked down the street, he could practically count every side glance he’d get. So far, he was at twenty, but his high score was fifty in an hour. How bad was his life that his best achievement was how many people looked at him with disgust? Well, Virgil thought, it wasn’t that bad. He had known a lot of other of people who had it almost as bad as he did - sometimes, worse. And it was those people that he managed to befriend, in his own odd, weird way.

Honestly, Virgil wasn’t even sure how they became his friends, but he wasn’t gonna question it. Not now.

Virgil tugged at his hoodie strings, cursing under his breath as he bumped into someone.

“Sorry,” Virgil muttered, looking down and forcing himself to keep moving. He could hear them groan about ‘Teens these days,’ and Virgil just kept walking, tightening his fists at the veiled insult. Keep walking, Virgil thought, just ignore them. It shouldn’t hurt as much as it did, since, at this point, it was practically routine. Go outside, crash into someone, get insulted, go home. It almost made him want to stay inside all day - almost. Contrary to the nosy middle-aged neighbors, Virgil did have a social life, thank you very much. It just… wasn’t as prominent as everyone else’s. Could you blame him, Virgil thought out, shaking his head.

With the looks everyone gave him constantly, you’d think people would understand that ‘Hey, this guy is outed by society! He’s screwed in the friendship department!’

Apparently, Virgil overestimated people’s intelligence. Never again, he thought, people were exactly as dumb as they looked. They didn’t even know him- yet… Everyone knew he was wrong. A dud.

Shoving his hands in his pocket, Virgil walked towards the train. The crowd was forming rapidly, and anxiety shot up in his spine. He licked his lips, fingering the small amount of cash before walking forward. Virgil quickly paid, practically jumping into the train before the doors slammed shut. He looked around for a seat, faintly noting that the train was a wreck. Sure, it wasn’t a dumpster, but… Virgil sat down on a mangled seat, thread sticking out of it on all sides. Yeah, the train was definitely high class.

He sighed, leaning back against the train’s walls. Virgil winced as the chatter of the train picked up. Sure enough, a group of tourists were blabbering right in front of him, and Virgil wanted to groan out. Of course… Virgil whipped out his headphones, thanking whatever higher deity in existence that they weren’t tangled. He popped them in, listening to some song before closing his eyes.

Virgil felt the train move, and he let his mind drift. What was he thinking about, again? Oh… right. According to literally every person in existence, he was a heathen with purple hair and an emo/angsty background. Yay. Virgil couldn’t help the bitter taste in his mouth at that description - damn, he was getting too good at being right. Because he knew that everyone thought of him that way - even people who didn’t know him at all. And it wasn’t even his fault - he didn’t want to be this way. Virgil remembered the nights when he was a kid, begging for someone to whisk him away from the constant judging. He could remember the shrieking and the crying, hoping that one day it would change.

It never did. Such was his life.

Virgil wished he’d accepted that fact sooner.

Everyone knew he wasn’t normal. He was an outlier, the unknown - Virgil wasn’t supposed to exist. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out. He was supposed to be this, act like that. But it never happened - he was just Virgil.

Virgil gave off this ‘bad vibe,’ according to literally everyone that walked past him. People always gave him that ‘look’, for reasons that Virgil didn’t even care anymore. Some small part of him broke whenever someone would cuss him out under their breath, but for some reason, it only managed to make Virgil come back with a furious hatred for the world.

Virgil knew he wasn’t normal. There was something wrong with him. Especially when he saw things jump out at him in the middle of the night. They were… monsters, in every way possible. He recalled one time when he was walking in a Subway. Never again, he promised. Subway was evil. But there were always things that happened to him. Feral dogs that seemed to be atleast double his own size attacked him out in the blue. Buffed out people with only one eye stalked him whenever he walked out in the park - one even tried to kill him. But whenever he tried to explain it to someone… apparently that dog was a kitten and that person was an elderly. 

Yep, totally makes sense.

Virgil forced himself to open his eyes, feeling the train coming to a stop. He glanced up at the sign, squinting as he tried to make out the floating letters. Nope. Wasn’t his stop. Virgil leaned back, sighing as he turned up the volume.  
The train moved again and Virgil hummed along with the tune of Over My Head, tapping his fingers against his leg. If he had to sit on a thirty minute trip across the city, then at least he’d have his music. For a second, Virgil managed to relax, leaning his head back and just enjoying the blast of music.

And then, of course, someone had to sit next to him.

Immediately, Virgil stiffened, instinctively turning down the volume blasting from his headphones. The last thing he wanted was someone to start a lecture about ‘modern music.’ Yeah, so what if the Beatles were really the hit in the 70s? He didn’t. Care.

So Virgil forced himself to just sit in silence, swallowing at the sudden awkwardness bursting between them. Seriously, who sits next to a person when there’s about ten other spots-

“Ah, yes, I forgot to ask, do you mind?” Virgil blinked at the voice, whipping his head around to the person sitting next to him.

“No.” Was all Virgil managed to say, well, muttered as the person sat straight up.

“Great. I apologize for not asking sooner.” The guy was… weird, Virgil noted. He talked like a textbook - looked like one, too. He wore a necktie and a dark blue shirt, matched with black skinny jeans. Oh, and glasses, because this guy was really trying hard for that nerd look. Or maybe he really was one? Wait, why did Virgil care? “I needed company for the experiment I am engaging in.”

“Ex… Experiment?” Oh no, Virgil was not liking where this was going. He swallowed and berated himself for stuttering. Yeah, great English, Verge-

“Yes.” The man adjusted his glasses and pushed them up at the sides. “I was unable to gather any other information via the Library and the ‘Internet. You seem to be in the same situation as I am.”

“What?” Virgil blinked, feeling his hackles rise and his brain started screaming at him. “Look, I don’t care what drugs or thing you’re selling. I don’t want it.”

Traveling around the city, you were bound to run into one of those ragtag groups that practically pressured you into buying some sort of drug. Virgil had had his handful of interactions, and he’d always barely escaped them. But… The guy didn’t look like one of those people. He looked nice. 

And he also looked very, very confused. “No…” He began, “That wasn’t what I meant. Was my statement not trustworthy enough? Allow me to rephrase- I believe that another person will help me in my studies. I can’t be the only one experiencing these… anomalies.”

“Yeah,” Virgil snorted, the guy was a living textbook, “Right. You literally just met me and suddenly we’re the same. Keep talkin’, lunatic.”

“I do not appreciate you insulting me. And frankly, I was simply trying to conduct an experiment-”

“Whatever- I don’t appreciate you ‘experimenting’ on me. Can you just lay off?”

People were turning their way, eyes looking at him. Shit, he thought, all he wanted to do was go home in peace.

The nerd had the nerve to huff, rolling his eyes before leaning back in his seat. “Fine. I will not intrude further. I just…” He adjusted his glasses, and Virgil faintly noticed the bags under the guy's eyes.

Oh no, his mind said, no, we’re not going to feel bad for a stranger. None of that. Weren’t we just insulting the guy two seconds ago? He was but… Virgil couldn’t help but feel just a bit bad. The guy looked- well, he looked just like him. The nerdy look probably didn’t help with being social, and the way he talked probably didn’t get him any points in some club or something. And Virgil couldn’t help the understanding. Sure, Virgil wasn’t a ray of sunshine, but he wasn’t going to ruin a guy’s fucking day because he wanted to.

“Ah, fuck it…” Virgil muttered, turning to face the nerd. “Go ahead, show me what you got.”

The nerd’s face actually brightened. “Very well. I assure you, the time will not be of waste. I have gathered a series of plausible factions and various-”

“Whoa, whoa, slow down. Just tell me what you wanted to do.” Virgil slowly spoke out, and he briefly regretted his decision, just for a second.

“Right- I… I have been seeing these sort of images in the middle of crowds or chaos. Yet, whenever I discuss these with the authorities, it seems as though they never existed. They just weren’t there.” Virgil felt his blood go cold as the geek kept talking, “I have tried to collect photos, but it never worked. I have sketched out diagrams-”

“Wait.” The train slowed, and Virgil could barely make out anything. “Wait- What’s your name, geek?”

“Logan. Logan Everill.”

Someone- Someone was like him? “Logan- Logan, do they ever attack? What do they look like?”

He couldn’t help the pounding in his chest, the beating of his heart, the rapid breathing in and out. Virgil wasn’t alone. Someone saw the things he saw. Normal, Normal, Normal. The words repeated like a mantra, the only thing burning into his mind. Logan Everill was like him. He saw the things lurking in the darkness - saw the feral dogs growling at him. Logan saw the things he did… he wasn’t alone. 

“I… I cannot describe them. They look like-”

Suddenly, the train lurched forward and Virgil felt his back slam into the pole next to him. He gasped, mind spinning before whipping his head towards the front. The tourists in front of him were launched forward, screaming. Logan was right behind him, standing up and gripping the pole desperately.

Virgil’s eyes widened and his heart jumped out of his chest. “No…”

For a split second, Virgil wished for someone to say anything, do anything just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. And then a little girl cried out, screaming. It sunk in, and people started yelling and he could see out of the corner of his eyes the girl was kneeling on the ground. Logan moved forward, eyes wide and fist tightened. People kept on shrieking and Virgil couldn’t help the shaking in his bones. 

This… This couldn’t be happening, he thought dumbly. There’s no way…

Because the front of the train was gone and in its place was a dog the size of his own apartment.

“Yeah,” Virgil heard Logan whisper under his breath, “They look like that.”

The dog looked up, and Virgil screamed.


End file.
